


Nothing was well

by red_camellia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Angst, Drama, Drarry, Fluff, M/M, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Romance, idk what the heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:01:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_camellia/pseuds/red_camellia
Summary: The scar was still there and Harry Potter remained the symbol of victory, while he was shut away in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo. After weeks of isolation, nightmares, and therapies that didn’t work, he finally is allowed a normal room with a roommate. The last chance to achieve a result.Due to a mistake in the documents, Harry finds himself not in a room with Terry Boot as planned, but with Draco Malfoy.





	1. ONE

_A/N: there are some heavy topics in this fic, the violence/blood/gore parts are small and not very descriptive in my opionion but I still want to put a little warning ahead just i_ n case...

 

* * *

 

 

“Harry Potter – the boy who lived – come to die”

The high voice resonated in his head, making his head hurt even more. It felt as if it was going to explode any minute. The scar was burning. Sirius’ laughing face vanished behind a thin veil.

“HARRY”.

His eyes flung open and a blurred face hovered over him. “Good morning, Mr Potter”, a Healer smiled. Harry grabbed for his glasses and rubbed his forehead – more out of habit than because of a real pain that had shot through his scar for so many years. “Headaches? I’ll bring you a potion in a minute”, she said. “You’ve got a visitor”, she added. The Healer got up and left the room. Harry turned his head and saw a tall young man standing by his bed, rocking nervously. The red hair gathered in the back to a ponytail, seemingly to imitate his older brother, it looked rather odd on Ron.

“Hey”, Ron said awkwardly. Harry nodded. “Heard you were moved today”, Ron said. Harry looked at the second bed in his new room. It was weird to sleep in a new room, the walls were not clinically white, but of a soft beige. The room was fully furnished, which meant that they trusted him well enough by now. He had destroyed the furniture of his very first room in a moment of rage. It made him think of Dumbledore’s office and how he had thrown his precious instruments into the fire because Sirius had died and it had been his fault and he had been so sick of everything.

And again everyone praised him and congratulated him and no one understood that this war was not over. It raged on in his head, every night a snake like face glared at him and loved ones disappeared in flashes of green light. “Hermione’s room is pretty close”, Ron added. Harry nodded, although this was new to him. He had heard that Hermione, too, had been taken to the St. Mungo. Ron was paler than usual and Harry was sure that both of them thought of the night when Bellatrix had tortured Hermione.    

The war was not over.

“Do you already know who’s going to be your new roommate?” Ron asked. “Terry Boot”, he answered. Ron furrowed his eyebrows. “Ravenclaw?” he asked as if they were still at school and Harry was just lying in the Hospital Wing. Harry didn’t respond and stared at the sheet between his hands. “How – How’s Hermione?” Harry asked finally. “Better”, Ron murmured. Harry wanted to ask about George, but his name got stuck somewhere in his throat and choked him. He hadn’t had any news from anyone but Ron. He wasn’t allowed to read the papers in case it said something that put him in a rage again or worsened his depression. As if there was anything that could possibly worsen his situation.

“I – I think I’m going to see her now”, Ron murmured. Harry nodded and watched Ron leave the room. He put his heavy head onto the pillow and closed his eyes. Mostly he slept during the day, when the sun was shining brightly into his room. He felt a bit safer this way, at night he saw shadows moving on the walls, a big snake erupting from the corner of the room, every creak was a Death Eater lurking around. He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, his roommate was already there. Three Healers blocked his sight at the boy lying there. They were discussing something in a hushed tone. “Are you sure he is ready?”

 – “Absolutely, he needs company!”

 – “But he hasn’t shown much improvement yet…” A female healer hurried towards Harry.  
  
“Ah, Mr Potter. Your potion. Here you go”, she said and handed him a small cup. “Miss Ginny Weasley wanted to see you, while you were sleeping. She left you a card”, she added and pointed at his bedside table. “Ginny was here?” Harry asked absently and looked at the bedside table. He felt like being thrown back in time when he had lain in the Hospital Wing and Ginny had brought him a self-made Get Well card. But this time it wasn’t self-made and it had a few words quickly written on it.

_Hi Harry,_

_I am sorry to not have visited you so far. The last months have been quite rough, you know._  
George didn’t want to go to St. Mungo, and well… he managed to escape three times, so we took him back home.  
We’ve been trying our best to take care of him, but it takes up all of our time and energy.  
Ron is a bit overwhelmed with leading the joke shop, I think. I hope you’re doing better. Get well soon!

_Love, Ginny._

 

Harry put the letter down as the Healers left the room. However the boy lying there on the bed wasn’t Terry Boot. The white-blonde hair almost the same colour as the pillows and his pale skin more white than ever, he seemed to disappear between the sheets. His pointed face had lost all of its old arrogance and pride, the cheeks sunken in and his grey eyes with dark violet circles underneath staring at the ceiling. “Malfoy”.

Harry’s voice cracked as he said his name. A mix of anger, fear and surprise shot through him. He had never thought of Malfoy being in St. Mungo, but now… After all, he had gone through stuff as well. Malfoy didn’t react to his name. “Malfoy, Draco Malfoy”, Harry repeated. But the boy lay silent, he blinked just as Harry thought he might be dead. Harry got up and walked over to his ex-rival. Malfoy kept staring at the ceiling and didn’t seem to notice Harry. “Draco Malfoy?” Harry repeated quietly. When he stood directly at his bed, Draco Malfoy’s eyes moved slightly. They looked oddly dull and still he didn’t seem to understand that he was being called. And most of all, he didn’t seem to recognize Harry. Harry shivered as he wondered what they had done to him or what had happened to him to make the once sneering boy into a lifeless shell of a young man.

Harry turned away, not being able to look at him any longer. He sat down at the little table and pulled out a piece of parchment, he started writing an answer to Ginny’s letter, but soon had forgotten what he wanted to write, his mind confused. The scratching of the quill was calming and when his breath had eased, he had written a full parchment of random words. He crumbled up the parchment and threw it away. There was a slight ruffling sound and when Harry whirled around, he saw that Malfoy was shifting slowly. He tried to sit up, but apparently it was painful as if something was forcing him back down. The ruffling turned into a soft banging sound and Harry stared motionless at Malfoy as he realized that he was trying to free his hands which had been cuffed to the bed. Malfoy looked up, his eyes were desperate, the sheets had slipped down and revealed his fragile body. He was less than skin and bones, he looked like a skeleton. When his feverish eyes saw Harry, he knew that this time he recognized him because his eyes widened and a second later he started screaming. He wriggled, trying harder to get rid of the ties and screamed louder in panic. The door flew open, banging against the wall and in stormed a few Healers. Harry felt sick as he saw how they forced Malfoy back down onto his bed. His shouting stopped abruptly with a gagging sound as a silencing charm was cast upon him and the Healers pressed a bottle of potion against his lips. The potion trickled down the sides of Malfoy’s mouth, but he finally gulped down the potion and his body stopped jerking.

“I told you, he wasn’t ready”, one of the Healers hissed. Malfoy shook slightly and coughed, the tongue charm seemed to hinder him from gulping properly, but the Healers didn’t seem to notice. They left the room discussing whether to put Malfoy back into a single room. Harry hadn’t noticed that he had pressed himself against the wall, holding tightly onto the table. He finally let go and his cramped hands were shaking violently. Malfoy coughed another time and Harry couldn’t help but feeling shocked at the rough treatment. He approached Malfoy cautiously, fearing that he would give him another fit. But Malfoy was too busy trying to breathe to notice Harry. Harry froze when he saw a tear rolling down from the corner of Malfoy’s eyes, disappearing in his white-blond hair. He reached for the tissue box on his bedside table and stopped next to Malfoy’s bed. When Malfoy spotted Harry he went rigid, his bloodshot eyes widening, but Harry raised his hands.

“No, I don’t want to harm you”, he said hoarsely. He pulled out a tissue. Malfoy whimpered and tried to get away from him, when Harry came closer. But he stopped in his movements, when Harry carefully wiped away the bits of potion that had been trickling from his mouth. Malfoy’s chest was heaving up and down quickly and Harry suddenly realized what he was doing. He pulled away and threw the tissue into the trash can. He was shaking and missed the can. He leaned against Malfoy’s bed for support.  
“They promised me to bring a red-golden blanket and a sofa. Maybe they’ll bring a green one for you. You know, it’ll be a bit like Hogwarts. It’s like being in the Hospital Wing and if you got up and left you would walk through the corridors. You walked down the stairs, not forgetting about the fake one that would suck your foot into the stairs and reached the Great Hall. The ceiling would look like the sky outside and candles would float in the air. There would be a great dinner and pudding… treacle tart”, Harry said. Malfoy’s hasty breath seemed to calm as he listened to Harry.  
“And then you’d return to your dormitory, to the soft bed with the curtains. Do the Slytherins have the same beds as Gryffindors? I mean the curtains will probably be green, not red, are they?” Harry asked. Malfoy stared at Harry, a weird look in his eyes, but being unable to speak he couldn’t respond and Harry wasn’t quite sure if Malfoy would have answered his random questions.

But talking about Hogwarts, about home, had been calming, he got up from Malfoy’s bed. He crawled back into his own bed and pulled the sheets over his shoulders. Once he had settled down he gazed over to Malfoy, who was lying motionless in his bed, staring back. Somehow Harry must have drifted into an uneasy sleep, because he was walking through the castle with Nearly Headless Nick. The castle was empty except for them, but Nick insisted he had to show Harry something when Mrs Norris appeared and spoke with a high-pitched voice: “Now that was a strong charm. He could barely breathe! I know who he is but we cannot change our treatment because of that”.

Harry opened his eyes. For the first time, he had slept during the night and a group of healers were standing around Malfoy’s bed. He saw how they lifted the tongue charm and how his left arm was untied. A Healer removed the bandages and Harry’s stomach did a flip when he got a glimpse of a huge scar, glowing as if it had been seriously inflamed. Then it sunk in, the scar was exactly where his Dark Mark had been. Apparently they had removed it. “Improvements?” one of the Healers asked.  
“I’m afraid it’s still inflamed, it’s not closing up. But I must say it was a big step removing it. I had not believed it possible after all our attempts. Mr Malfoy is a brave fighter”, the Healer said. He pointed his wand at an ointment which started to spread over the long scar by itself. Then new bandages winded themselves around Malfoy’s arm and Harry had a faint idea of what they had been doing to Malfoy. The removal of his Dark Mark seemed to have been way more painful and exhausting than anything Harry had been through. He had heard that it was impossible to remove as it had been placed there by Voldemort personally. He shivered as he thought of him and his body felt as if he had been stuck into ice water. “It was a good decision and very brave”, another Healer reassured Malfoy with a gentle smile.  
The same female Healer that always brought him his potion hurried into the room, carrying a woollen red-golden blanket and pillow. “Here we are, Mr Potter”, she said kindly and changed his bed sheets into the Gryffindor ones. “Feeling at home now?” she asked. Harry cleared his throat. “Could I get green ones, too?” he asked. She looked surprised. “Oh, matching your eyes?” she said.  
“Uh, no, green-silver”, he corrected her quickly as he flushed. “Slytherin colours, my dear?” she asked surprised. “Yes. For – him”, he said hesitant and nodded at Malfoy.  
Her cheeks flushed. “You are such a kind person. Sure, of course, we’ll get Mr Malfoy Slytherin blankets. So nice, always thinking of others”, she babbled. And Harry looked away, when he saw that Malfoy’s pale face darkened. Once the Healers had left the room, Malfoy, still lying, turned to him. “What are you up to?” he snarled. But his voice was hoarse and hushed. Harry looked at him. “I never thanked you”, he said. Malfoy looked taken aback. “What?”

 – “You didn’t tell Bellatrix that it was me”, Harry said. Malfoy opened his mouth and closed it.  
“You got the Dark Mark removed?” Harry added. “None of your business”, Malfoy hissed.

“Now you’ve got your scar. It’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Harry had no idea why he was saying that. Malfoy stared at him, the old heated hate was glowing in his dull eyes. “Think you’re funny, Potter?” he said quietly. Harry stared at the arm. He had gotten his scar through a killing curse and he had no idea what Malfoy went through to get that scar. “No”, Harry said. His head was aching and once again he felt anxiety sweeping over him. Headaches reminded him of the old scar pain and he knew it wasn’t possible, but every time it happed, he thought Voldemort would jump out and kill everyone. His breath hitched and he pressed his palms into his temples. He remembered just on time that there was still a bit of a calming potion left on his bedside table. He grabbed clumsily for it with shaking hands and emptied it in one go.  
“I’m sorry”, Harry whispered as his body slowly relaxed. The calming potion stripped him of every emotion, which had as a side effect, that he felt nothing at all. And he knew that he was sorry even though he didn’t feel sorry. He got up and staggered to Malfoy’s bed. He nearly tripped and quickly sat down on the bed. Malfoy’s mouth twitched and he looked uncomfortable.  
“What kind of potion was that?” he asked. “Sort of calming potion”, Harry murmured. “Makes sleepy and you feel nothing”. He stared at the wall.

“They usually just jinx me. I only get sleeping potion”, Malfoy said. “Sleeping potion doesn’t help anymore”, Harry murmured. He finally turned his head, they looked at each other without resentment. “I see him. I can – hear him”, Harry said and he saw terror in Malfoy’s eyes. Harry’s hands dug into the sheets. “Over and over again”

– “Stop”, Malfoy interrupted him. Harry stared into the grey eyes, he had never noticed the speckles of blue and brown in them. Malfoy was trembling hard, but since his arms were tied up, he couldn’t reach down to pull the sheets back over his upper body. Harry grabbed them and carefully pulled them over Malfoy’s shoulders. He accidentally brushed his bony shoulder and felt as if he was going to fall apart by that single touch. He had only drunken a few drops of the calming potion and his body was so used to it by now that the effect was already wearing off. He remembered how Malfoy had looked like in their sixth year, ashen, broken. But it was nothing like now and he remembered how he had pitied Malfoy once he knew that Malfoy had not chosen his path, but had been forced by Voldemort. He remembered him crying in the boys’ washroom, dry sobs echoing from the walls.

_Sectumsempra. Blood. Blood. So much blood. I didn’t want this, I didn’t want this. A grey, ashen face up close._

Tears dropped onto Malfoy’s bedsheets as Harry cried silently. He had no right to hate him anymore, who was he to judge? They had both been chosen without being asked, having to go down the path put up for them. Harry grabbed Malfoy’s shoulders and Malfoy winced in pain. He couldn’t say a single word of all those he wanted to say.

“Next time, give me some of your potion”, Malfoy demanded. Harry let go of him and nodded absently. Malfoy closed his eyes, when he opened them again, the warm weight on his bed was gone. Harry had returned to his own bed.

 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains some slight gore

_A/N: Oh dear, I didn't think anyone would actually like this story and now I feel a bit insecure about the next chapters.. well I hope it doesn't turn out as too much of a disappointment to you guys OTL_   
_Thank you so so much for the kind and wonderful comments!!_

 

* * *

 

 

“Malfoy?” Ron almost shouted.  
“Shush”, Harry hissed. He had been allowed to leave his room for the first time and go for a little walk. So he had met up with Ron in the cafeteria of St Mungo.  
“What the hell is he being treated for? He’s a Death Eater. Why would they put him in your room?” Ron asked quietly. Harry felt uneasy about telling Ron.  
“They removed his Dark Mark”, he murmured.  
“No way, it can’t be removed”, Ron whispered. Harry gulped.  
“They – sort of carved it out. I’ve seen them changing the bandages”, Harry said.

Ron pulled a disgusted face. “Just because they removed the Mark doesn’t change that he is a Death Eater”, he said then darkly. “Ron, he never wanted to be a Death Eater”, Harry said. Ron stared at him in disbelief. “What are you defending that git for? Have you forgotten that he let his Death Eater friends into the castle? He’s responsible for getting Dumbledore killed! He almost killed Katie Bell and – me!” Ron called. A young witch sitting a few tables away looked up nervously. Harry nodded quickly.

“Do you really think I could forget that?” he hissed. “But he doesn’t deserve being treated the way he is now. He’s tied to his bed and they nearly choke him every time he gets his potion”, Harry said. He knew that Hermione would have been on his side. She couldn’t bear seeing someone being treated unfairly. For 6 years he had passionately hated Draco Malfoy and now nothing of that was left. At the end of his sixth year he had just learnt under which circumstances Malfoy had been forced into the fellowship of Voldemort and had felt pity for him. And while they had been on the hunt for Horcruxes, it had been Draco Malfoy who had kept silent, who had not given Harry away to Bellatrix.

“Yeah, he needs to be tied to his bed obviously. Talk to the Healers, they need to change your roommate to Terry Boot”, Ron said harshly. Harry gave up. They decided on meeting next week with Hermione in the cafeteria. She seemed to be doing pretty well by now. “She’s read through the entire St. Mungo library by now”, Ron said and rolled his eyes. “I’ve brought her new books”.  
Harry smiled. That sounded like the Hermione he used to know. They hadn’t spoken about Harry’s condition, had never, since he had been brought to St. Mungo. And Harry didn’t want to talk about it, he couldn’t bear seeing Ron’s look full of worry and pity. They said goodbye and Harry went back into his room. To his surprise, he found a woman standing at Malfoy’s bed, talking to a Healer.

“Why is my son tied up like a prisoner when Harry Potter is allowed to run around freely?” she called agitated. The Healer tried to calm her down. “Mrs Malfoy, please. Your son is tied up for his own safety”, he said kindly. “For his own safety? He is in pain! I’m going to get him out of this misery this instant”, she called.  
“Mrs Malfoy! Your son needs to be watched closely, his wound hasn’t yet healed. We cannot let him go”, the Healer insisted. “Then I expect him to be treated fairly”, she called shrilly.  
“We cannot untie him”, the Healer said quietly.  
“Why not?” she said distraught.  
“Mrs Malfoy, as I said it is for his own safety”, the Healer repeated. Mrs Malfoy had seen Harry standing in the door by now. Almost accusingly she pointed at him and Harry jumped, thinking for a moment she was pointing her wand at him. “He’s not tied up!” she called. The Healer took a deep breath, not having noticed Harry standing at the door yet.  
“Mr Potter is not suicidal, Mrs Malfoy, unlike your son”. It was as if someone had replaced his insides with blocks of ice. Harry stood frozen in shock, pressed against the door. Mrs Malfoy looked from the Healer to Harry and to her sleeping son. Her hands were shaking and she mumbled under her breath. With a last weird gaze at Harry, she left the room. The Healer looked uncomfortable as he saw Harry stumbling into the room, but neither of them said a word and the Healer hastily left the room. Harry sat down on his bed, pulling the sheets around him. The words of the Healer seemed to echo inside his head, he couldn’t imagine the once sneering, arrogantly strutting Draco Malfoy trying to take his own life. And he wondered what he was seeing in his dreams whether he heard Voldemort’s voice inside his head like Harry did, whether he kept seeing his classmates dead on the floor. Harry thankfully took the Calming Potion brought by a Healer and gulped it down quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut and wished he hadn’t heard the conversation between Mrs Malfoy and the Healer.

Dumbledore fell down the tower. Hermione screamed being tortured by Bellatrix and a high, cold voice laughed and laughed. The screaming didn’t stop and Harry awoke with a start. It was dark in their room and Malfoy was tossing in his bed, kicking his legs, trying to jerk his arms up. The bandage on his left arm was dark with blood. Healers stormed into their room trying to calm him, but he kept on screaming. Harry got up, he wondered if he had always looked like that, when he woke up from one of his nightmares of Voldemort killing someone and walked to Malfoy’s bed. He stepped between the Healers who tried to push him back. Malfoy didn’t stop screaming and suddenly Harry was hit hard into the chest by one of Malfoy’s kicks. The Healers helped him up, but before they could do anything, Harry had thrown himself onto Malfoy, pressing him into the mattress with his own weight. He started talking, shouting, random at first and then everything that was left of good memories. “The Lake… and the soft green light of it. The smell of a broom, the feeling when you mount it and push off the ground. I’d give anything to fly. Play Quidditch. Remember? Remember Quidditch?” Harry called into Malfoy’s ear. “The - the Golden Snitch. The sound of the wind. Remember?” he whispered.

Malfoy stopped trashing and kicking, he was breathing heavily. One of the Healers quickly removed the bloody bandage, revealing that the scar had opened again. But the blood oozing out was not just red, it was mixed with a black, thick fluid that made Harry feel sick. He felt Malfoy trembling underneath him, crying silently. “Get the potion. Quick!” the Healer called. “Stay there”, one of the Healers told Harry. A sizzling silvery potion was poured over the wound and it smelled as if his skin was being burnt. Malfoy immediately bucked up his hips and screamed in pain. Only Harry’s weight kept him down, tears rolling down his pale face. His eyes were bloodshot and Harry’s chest felt tight. Malfoy looked as if he was about to pass out from pain. Harry wished he knew anything, he wished Dumbledore had taught him anything about how to drive the Dark Mark out of someone. But he had never been taught anything like that… he thought of his old Potion’s book, Snape’s book. But no, Snape had been a Death Eater by choice, he had loved the Dark Arts, why would a Potion's book hold any answers for him anyways? No, there had to be another way.  
His arm had been destroyed so many times, he had lost his bones, a basilisk had pierced his arm… Fawkes!

“Have you tried Phoenix tears?” he asked as he remembered their power. The Healers exchanged looks. “They’re rare, we just don’t have a phoenix here – at hand”, a healer said. His lips twitching as if he had to fight down the urge to smile at Harry’s naïve stupidity. Fawkes had always been there in Hogwarts but of course Phoenixes were not the usual kind of pet a wizard or witch kept. Harry wondered where Fawkes was now, he had disappeared after Dumbledore had died. Harry climbed down from Malfoy and a Healer handed him a cup of the calming potion. Then they left the room quickly, speaking about starting a new therapy with a different potion.

“Why – are – you – doing – this?” Malfoy pressed out. Harry slipped his hand behind Malfoy’s head and held him while helping him to drink the potion. He couldn’t help Fred, Remus or Tonks or any of those that had died because of Voldemort. He had not been able to save anyone and now he had the chance to do so. “No one understands”, Harry said. “The nightmares… everything I’ve seen”. They were both quiet until Malfoy spoke up. “Do you wake up screaming?” he asked. Harry turned the cup in his hands.  
“’course I do. I’m a nutter, remember?” he said.  
“Did you just call me a nutter?” Malfoy asked sharply.  
“You always called me a nutter”, Harry said and put the cup down on the bedside table. Something in Malfoy’s eyes changed. “Phoenix tears”, he murmured and looked away.  
“There is not much that can heal such a wound”, Harry said. “Fawkes once healed me from a basilisk’s bite!” Malfoy scowled. “That’s not a basilisk’s bite, Potter -”, he growled.  
“I know what it feels like to have a part of Voldemort inside you”, Harry shot back. Malfoy winced at the name. “There’s not much that can drive him out – “, Harry started and interrupted himself.

Malfoy turned around. “What?” he asked. Harry had never been able to keep Voldemort out, except for the times he felt grief or love. But grief seemed to be no help here.  
“There is just one thing that drives Voldemort completely out”, Harry said. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “Love”, Harry said. Malfoy scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh”.  
Harry frowned. “I know it doesn’t sound very impressive! Do you think I was happy with that answer when Dumbledore told me? But it did work for me, he could never possess me when I thought of my parents, Sirius or Ron or Hermione”, he said. Malfoy made a sudden movement that threw Harry from his bed. “Yeah, congrats, Potter”, Malfoy growled.  
Harry eyed the shaking, pale Malfoy turning away as much as possible so Harry couldn’t see his tears, because there was no one to feel love for. “Sorry”, Harry murmured. Malfoy muttered something that told Harry clearly to go away. “I’m serious about it”, Harry said firmly.  
Malfoy turned around. “Why? What does it matter to you? Haven’t you played hero enough? What does it matter to you how I’m doing? Why would you care? Why, huh? Want to get out of here having a nice interview of how you saved me? Well, I don’t want to be saved! I’d rather die here!” Malfoy shouted. His tied arms were shaking heavily. Harry didn’t know what to say. Why was he trying so hard to save Malfoy? Was it really just because he couldn’t save his own friends?

“I don’t want you to die”, Harry said plainly. Malfoy closed his mouth and stared at him. “You can’t help me”, Malfoy said then.  
“Why not?” Harry asked.  
“I don’t want your help with… stuff like this”, Malfoy snarled. Harry ignored Malfoy’s hissing. “Wasn’t there this girl, Pansy Parkinson?” he asked.  
“What about her?” Malfoy asked coldly. “Didn’t you guys date?” Harry asked. Malfoy started at him. “If we did, you were the last with whom I’d talk about it”, Malfoy said. Harry sighed.  
“Wasn’t there anyone you felt strongly connected to? Someone who was always on your mind?” Harry asked. “It doesn’t have to be romantically. A friend is good, too. Crabbe? Goyle?” he suggested. Malfoy curled his lips. “Are you serious?”  
Harry rolled his eyes. “Your mother? “, he tried. Malfoy winced. “Come on, someone had to be there. Someone you couldn’t stop thinking about, someone who caught your eye at the Great Hall, in the corridors, in class, during Quidditch?” Harry asked and realized it was hopeless. All he had seen Malfoy doing, was constantly popping up where Harry was and commenting on him. He felt a sudden rush at that thought, a feeling he hadn’t have in a long time. “What does Amortentia smell like to you?” he asked carefully.

"What?" he asked. Harry repeated the question but Malfoy looked annoyed. "Why would I tell you?"  
Harry shook his head. "I'm serious, think about it. If you want to get rid of Voldemort in your head, you need to focus on thinks that make you feel genuinely -", Harry said.  
"Okay, okay. I get it", Malfoy interrupted him. He looked at Harry for a long while and then he averted his eyes.  
“Tart apple, Slytherin Common Room…” Malfoy started. “Yes?” Harry asked. There was a faint flush on Malfoy’s pale cheeks. “I don’t know”, he said and looked away.  
“I’ll tell you what mine smells like to be fair. We need to find something, in case they don’t find an antidote for you”, Harry edged him on.  
“So, what does Amortentia smell like to you? Potter”, Malfoy said. Harry flinched. He had remembered standing in the dungeons and smelling Amortentia for the first time and wondered if the smell could change over time. “A broomstick handle, treacle tart…” Harry said. “And?” Malfoy asked. Harry looked at him. “I think it would smell differently by now - the third one, I mean”, he said.  
Malfoy frowned. “Treacle tart”, he repeated. “I’ve only tried that once”, he murmured more to himself.  
“We can ask them to send us some tart apple and treacle tart. That would be good!” Harry said, a sudden odd feeling overcoming him. Malfoy side-eyed him. “Okay”, he murmured.

Harry called a Healer and within an hour, they had treacle tart, tart apple, two bottles of pumpkin juice, butterbeer and a very small bit of elderflower wine. Malfoy’s right arm was freed from the tie so he could eat. They ate in silence and for a moment it felt like being back at Hogwarts. But soon Malfoy’s bed was full of crumbles and they had gotten along fairly well until Harry tried to help Malfoy eat some of the treacle tart because Malfoy’s hand was too weak to hold a fork properly. Malfoy nearly went into a rage.  
“I’m not a baby!”  
– “Think of our third year when you also only had one arm! You gladly had accepted being babied around!”  
– “I had been attacked by a Hippogriff!”  
– “Just because were a completely idiot and insulted Buckbeak!”

Malfoy let out an angry growling sound and tried to throw the plate at Harry but it flew past him and shattered on the floor. “Just because you always had to be in the centre of everything. Saint Potter! Great hero, chosen one!” Malfoy shouted. Harry blinked and was taken aback. Malfoy looked ashamed and surprised that he said those words out loud. “I never wanted that, you know”, Harry said. “Yeah, of course not”, Malfoy snapped. “I hated being stared at like some zoo animal. I still hate it”, Harry said. “What are you angry for? Do you really wished you were in my shoes?” Harry said.  
Malfoy stared at him. “I was never – good – enough”, Malfoy pressed out quietly. He grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt with his free hand. “I don’t need your pity, Potter”, he hissed. He pulled Harry closer so abruptly that Harry’s plate slid down and shattered too. “I don’t want –“, Malfoy started.

His hand lost its strength and sacked onto Harry’s leg and Harry took it. “Don’t”, Malfoy said, almost panicky. “Don’t tie it up”. Harry started at the ties. “Why did they do that anyways?” he asked although he knew the answer. But Malfoy had no idea that Harry had overheard the Healer’s conversation. “Probably to hinder me from running amok”, Malfoy said. “You wouldn’t run amok”, Harry said. “Sure of that? What if I got up and killed you while you were asleep?” Malfoy said, raising his voice. “You wouldn’t”, Harry said. Malfoy let out a cold laugh. “Why are you so sure?” he asked. “You’re not evil, Draco. You never were, otherwise you wouldn’t be here”, Harry said. Malfoy stiffened and he pulled his hand away. “It is still inside me”, he whispered and looked at his left arm.  
“I can hear his voice”, he said terrified.  
“We’re going to get rid of him. I promise”, Harry said.  
“How would you know, Potter”, Malfoy said.  
“I can hear him, too”, Harry confessed. “But as long as I don’t stop fighting, I can still win over him”, Harry said. Malfoy seemed to finally let go.  
“I can’t. I can’t fight like you”, he said weakly.  
“Then let me help you, please. Draco”, Harry said. Draco looked up. “You saved me too many times already. Why can’t you just let me go?” Draco asked.  
“He took so many lives, I can’t let him take just one more”, Harry said. “You’re trying to recover, so you’re already fighting, Draco. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’m not better at fighting than you. There is no rivalry”, he said. “Then where is the incentive?” Draco asked. Harry almost laughed. He got up slowly. “Where are you going?” Draco asked.

Harry pointed at the broken plates. “Cleaning up”, he said. He collected the broken shards and flinched when one of them cut into his finger. He sucked at it quickly, while throwing the shards away. He remembered how Dudley had put a cup of cold soup in front of his room, he had cut his hand on the mirror Sirius had given him. The mirror that had shown him his only hope, Dumbledore’s eye – though Aberforth’s not Albus Dumbledore’s eye – while hunting for Horkruxes. He had kept it in the small pouch, with his broken wand and other rubbish… the Snitch. I open at the last. The Snitch that had revealed at his kiss the Resurrection Stone and his loved ones…He too had once wished to lie side by side with his dead parents, sleeping under the thick snow.

“Harry?”

Harry blinked. Draco eyed him. “You had a weird look on your face”, he said.  
“You just said ‘Harry’, did you?” Harry interrupted Draco.  
“Uh-“, Draco started, trying to find words to deny it. “You started it”, Draco murmured.  
“I was wondering – if one drank Amortentia and felt love, even if it wasn’t real – could that possibly be enough to get him out of you?”, Harry asked. Draco grimaced. “You want me to drink a love potion? Who exactly should I be falling in love with, huh?” Draco asked. Harry looked at him thoughtfully and there was another slight pink shade creeping over Draco’s face.  
“Or… it could be worth a shot, couldn’t it?” Harry asked sarcastically. “What?” Draco asked worried.  
“Let me just try something”, Harry said. “No”, Draco said quickly. “No, no! You’re not going to try something on me!” he called in panic.  
“I don’t plan to try a love potion on you. Calm down, how am I going to do that without a wand?” Harry asked. Draco bit his lip.  
“What did you think of then?” he asked. Harry looked at him for a long time. Draco lowered his eyes. “No, not that – I mean. I really don’t – the third smell wasn’t really”, he stuttered when Harry tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly are you thinking?” Harry asked. Draco turned away. “Nothing”.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the day, but Harry didn’t get up to go to his own bed. When Draco wanted to throw him out of his bed, he saw that he had already fallen asleep curled up next to him. Draco shifted a little, it was good to have one hand free and being able to lie properly on one side. He closed his eyes and fell asleep immediately. A snake like face gazed at him and whispered cold praise into his ear for getting Harry Potter for him. Draco gasped and sat up, screaming. He felt someone grabbing him and he went rigid, thinking for a mad second it was the Dark Lord. But it was Harry.

“Draco…”

– “No, it is my fault. He’s got you. It is my fault”, Draco cried. Harry pulled Draco down and Draco found himself pressing his face into Harry’s shoulder. Harry held him tightly, whispering: “It’s okay”, again and again. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder as he was shoved back gently. Harry’s face looked at him through a blurred haze of tears. “Draco”, Harry said. But Draco’s head sunk back onto Harry’s chest, too exhausted to care, too exhausted to fight it any longer.  
“He won’t harm you anymore, Draco. He won’t be able to lie a finger on you or me. We are safe”, Harry whispered as if to reassure himself as well. His arms slid around Draco and held him tightly. He hadn’t been close to anyone for such a long time. Maybe that's why he held on so tightly... Ron had grown a bit distant to him, it had been months since he last had hugged someone or had been held by someone. “Look at me”, Harry said quietly and Draco slowly lifted his head. It felt like a breath, Harry’s lips grazed his barely. Draco didn’t dare to shut his eyes, when he reached with his free hand for Harry’s shoulder and slid closer to him. This time Harry kissed him so Draco could taste a bit of the treacle tart and feel Harry breathing into him. Breathing his name like no one ever had. A warmth spread through his body. It was six years’ worth of anger, six years’ worth of jealousy and six years’ worth of obsession when they kissed. The last year on the run was like a blur, the beginning of forgiveness and pity. One year worth of gentleness.

They broke the kiss as suddenly as they had started it as if they had just now realized what they had been doing. Neither of them knew what to say, now that they had broken the tension between them that Harry believed to be the strongest dislike for all his school time. So Harry got up and returned to his own bed, he looked over his shoulder back at Draco. He was propped up a little, his blonde hair falling into his forehead, watching him silently. Harry didn’t know whether it was thanks to the kiss and the sudden feeling of having someone close again, but he slept without having a nightmare for the first time in months. He didn’t know why he had kissed Draco, it had been as if his body had just moved out of its own accord. It had been the only right thing to do. Draco’s lips had been chapped and his skin a bit rough from the lack of shaving, but gentle. Harry quickly opened his eyes, feeling embarrassed when he caught himself thinking about Draco like that.

 

”Draco-?” he asked and turned around. It was early in the morning and a Healer smiled at him, while handing him a cup of potion.  
“It was actually a fantastic idea, Mr Potter. We contacted the Department for Magical Creatures at the Ministry and they found a phoenix - it was a real surprise and an odd coincidence that we were allowed to use Phoenix tears. Mr Malfoy is being treated right now”, she babbled right away. “His mother will be happy to get her son back soon”.

Harry choked on the potion. “He’s leaving?” he asked. The Healer looked surprised. “Oh well, if the wound has healed, I think we will have to let him go home - his mother has been demanding it several times already”, she said. And apparently the Phoenix tears seemed to have done their job well, because Draco didn’t return to his room that day and not the next day.  
When he finally got to ask a Healer the next day, he confirmed what Harry had guessed. “His mother took him home yesterday, we wanted to keep him a little longer. I don’t think he was quite ready yet, but she insisted on bringing him home”, the Healer sighed. “I see”, Harry murmured and felt oddly empty and alone.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay, exam time is approaching so I was busy trying to study. This is already the last chapter but I'm thinking of writing another Drarry/HP ff soon!

_A/N: I merged this chapter with the epilogue because I wouldn't be able to update with my upcoming exams and I didn't want to let you wait for... weeks!_   
_Soooo it got a little bit longer... and there's a time skip. OTL_

* * *

 

Draco Malfoy had been his roommate for only a couple of days, being his once so hated classmate and turning into something Harry couldn’t yet classify, he felt left behind. They hadn’t talked about the kiss and Harry guessed they never would. He wasn’t sure if he was going to see him again, his mother would probably make sure that they wouldn’t.

A day later, Terry Boot was indeed moved into Harry’s room, but Harry was relieved to hear that due to his good behaviour they would let Harry go sooner than expected. They had been lowering the dose of his daily calming potion day by day now. Harry wondered if he was going to go into a rage as soon as they stopped the potion completely. But the rage didn’t come, instead he found only emptiness.

Maybe the potion had drained every last bit out of him, that nothing was left. When he met up with Ron and Hermione, they both were happy to hear that he was to be released in a few days.

“Good, we’ll pick you up then! Hermione is going to be released today and mom is expecting you to come to the Burrow after your release. You can stay with us for a while…” Ron said. Harry nodded. He hadn’t thought about that until now. Where was he going to live now? He would surely not return to the Dursleys, he had thought of Grimmauld Place 12, but felt uneasy about it. He was glad Ron invited him over. “I’m going back to Hogwarts”, Hermione said.

“What?” Ron and Harry said simultaneously. “Well I have to get my graduation!” Hermione said matter of fact. “I’ve written to Professor McGonagall, she agreed to let me finish school this term. I’ve still got a few weeks left until September, so I will go to – Australia”, Hermione said and cleared her throat. “Australia?” Harry asked puzzled. Ron nudged him. “Wha- oh, right”, he murmured. Hermione had changed her parents’ memories before they had gone Horcrux hunting and had sent them to Australia.

On the day of his release, he received a huge package of various calming potions – just in case – and he got his wand back. It vibrated and red and golden sparks showered from the tip when he touched it. Harry felt as if seeing an old friend when he finally had his wand back and couldn’t wait to use it. Ron and Mrs Weasley awaited him as promised in the Entrance hall.  
“Hello, my dear”, Mrs Weasley greeted him and pulled him into a tight hug. Ron grinned at him. “Your stuff has been send to us already”, Ron said. “Great”, Harry murmured and faked a smile.  
They left the hospital and travelled back to the Burrow by a specially arranged portkey. Harry had gotten so used to isolation that he was rather overwhelmed having so many people around him suddenly. He desperately wished for a moment alone and managed to escape after four days of constant watching and eating.

It was early in the morning and everyone was still sleeping, that Harry snuck out and quietly made his way down to the hut outside. “Alohomora”, he whispered and the wooden door sprang open. “Lumos”, he murmured and the room lit up by his wand light. Spider webs decorated the ceiling and doorframe as always and the brooms of the Weasley family were all leaned against the wall. On the very left leaned his own broom, excitement rushed through his veins when he grabbed the Firebolt. He closed the door behind him and with a “Nox” he put the light out. He stuffed his wand into his pocket and mounted his broom. His heart was throbbing fast against his ribs as he pushed off the ground. Air was rushing in his ears and whirled through his hair and it was as if he had left all his worry and grief on the ground. He was free. He rose higher and higher through the cool morning air, into a blue and pink sky. He hadn’t known how much he needed to fly again until he was sitting on his broom. His fingers felt cold and the wind made his eyes tear up but he had not felt this alive since – he didn’t know.

Then he leaned forward and knew where he had to go. His hands were turning red and he was shivering as he was only wearing a light jacket over his shirt. He hadn’t dressed for a longer journey, especially not for one where he had to search his goal. He had only a vague memory of where the Manor was. They had Apparated to Malfoy Manor, so he couldn’t quite tell where it lie exactly. At first, he thought it was just the wind, but then he was sure he had heard his name being shouted.

“Where the hell are you going, Harry?”

It was Ron, it was not possible for him to keep up with the Firebolt, but he tried to speed up more. Harry made a sharp turn and stopped hovering in the air. Ron’s appearance brought him back to reality. It had been a stupid idea, he couldn’t just fly his way to Malfoy Manor and demand to see Draco. “You can’t just go off with your broom. The Muggles will see you”, Ron shouted and finally reached him. “Where did you plan on going anyways?” Ron asked. Harry didn’t answer. But he followed Ron back to the Burrow, they brought back the brooms and snuck into the kitchen. The grandfather clock made a soft sound and the arm with Ron’s face returned to “Home”. Ron thrusted Harry a cup into his hand and made him sit. “I’m not telling mom, because she would go crazy if you ran away. But Harry, you need to stop this – keeping everything to yourself. We know it’s hard”, Ron whispered. Harry nodded, just to satisfy Ron.

It was during lunch when Harry announced he needed to go to London. “London, my dear?” Mrs Weasley surprised. “Yes, uh, I need a few things from Diagon Alley”. Mrs Weasley smiled. “Oh do you plan to go back to school as well?” she asked. Harry opened his mouth, it sounded good and like a safe plan. “No”, he said. He couldn’t return, he couldn’t. “Don’t worry, I will stay at the Leaky Cauldron”, he reassured her.

Harry was just packing his backpack, when Ron entered the room. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I’m coming with you, mate”, he said. Harry stopped rolling up a pair of socks. “Ron”, he said and turned around. “You’re up to something and I won’t let you go alone. You know, it’s all peaceful, but still…” Ron said. “I’m fine, Ron. I don’t need to be protected”, Harry said, feeling a heavy anger boiling up inside him. Why was everyone treating him as if he needed protection? Hadn’t he fought Voldemort? Hadn’t he protected everyone?

“I know, it’s just – you were just released from hospital. You were unstable-“, Ron started. “I AM NOT UNSTABLE!” Harry shouted. “Don’t give me that look! I DON’T NEED TO BE BABYSITTED!”

Ron started at him. Quick steps rumbled on the stairs and Mrs Weasley appeared out of breath. “What happened?” she asked. Harry was still glaring at Ron. “Nothing”, he said then. He closed the backpack sharply and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. “He shouldn’t be going alone”, Ron said. Mrs Weasley eyed him. “Ron is right, my dear. Maybe he could accompany you to Diagon Alley”, she said carefully. “I need to return to the joke shop anyways. I will be heading to Hogsmead right away”, Ron said as if he was scared Harry would start shouting again. “Fine”, Harry grunted.

They took floo powder to get to Diagon Alley and Harry realized immediately that Ron had been right. It was peaceful, but everyone was staring at him more than ever before. They hurried to the Leaky Cauldron and Ron helped him carrying his stuff into his room. “Sorry – about before”, Harry murmured while heaving his trunk up the stairs. Ron hummed. “I know”.

Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk as soon as they had closed the door to his room. “I’ll be travelling with this from now on”, Harry said. Ron nodded and cleared his throat.  
“Send me… a letter if you need us”, Ron said hesitant. “Right”, Harry murmured. The goodbye was awkward and Ron hurried out of the room quickly with a last gaze at Harry.

Harry withdrew some money from Gringotts and then stood a while in front of the Post Office. He fought with himself until an elderly witch pushed him inside. It took him a while to write a letter, not sure what to say. In the end it was just a short note, which he send with a small owl.  
He wasn’t sure if he was going to receive an answer. But he returned to the Leaky Cauldron, keeping his head held low. He didn’t know what to do while waiting for an answer and he was scared of not doing anything. This gave his mind too much room to play out horrible scenarios and so he grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and Disapparated. He didn’t know what he expected when he stood in front of Grimmauld Place 12. The nauseous feeling was not just due to Apparating for the first time in a long while, but he pushed the door open and entered. It was quiet and a thick layer of dust covered everything. It was as if he had been thrown back into time, as if it had been yesterday when they had fled from the wedding.

“Homenum revelio”, Harry whispered, remembering Hermione’s spell. Nothing happened. It seemed that no one was there. No dusty ghost greeted him this time when he entered, it seemed that the spell had somehow been broken. His wand however still held tightly in his hand, he climbed down into the kitchen. The newspaper they had piled up there had been thrown to the floor, one lay to Harry’s feet and Severus Snape gazed back at him. Saucepans were lying on the stove as if someone had just put them there, wanting to cook. Harry didn’t dare to call out Kreacher’s name. He climbed the stairs quietly and pushed the door open into Sirius’ old room. He took off the Invisibility Cloak and sat down on the dusty bed and stared at the old pictures on the wall. A sudden knocking sound made him jump and scream, his wand held ready. His heart hammering in his chest, he had already shouted an “Expelliarmus” Charm as a reflex, but there was nothing to disarm. It was an owl sitting on the window sill, knocking on the window pane to be let inside. Harry, feeling a bit stupid, opened the window and the owl flew inside, landing without a sound on the bed. Harry removed a piece of parchment from its feet. The owl immediately spread its wings and left. Harry wondered how the owl found him, the house was supposed to be under the Fidelius Charm, but it had weakened when Dumbledore had died and then of course, they had fled from the Ministry and had taken Yaxley into the Charm. He probably told everyone… Harry unfolded the parchment. There was nothing on it but an address. He hadn’t expected that, but on the other hand he hadn’t expected any answer at all.

His short scribbled note to Draco: “We need to talk”, could have stayed unanswered. But there he held an address in his hand and didn’t hesitate, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head once more and Apparated. The Malfoy Manor hadn’t changed in the slightest bit, but it wasn’t Draco standing at the gate. It was Narcissa Malfoy.

Harry hesitated but pulled off the Cloak to reveal himself, she flinched at his sudden appearance. “What do you want from my son?” she asked directly.  
“Talk. I need to talk to him”, Harry said.  
“I know, you’ve written that in the note”, she said, she was holding said note in her hand. Harry frowned. Hasn’t Draco gotten his note after all?  
“How – How is he doing, Mrs Malfoy? Has his wound healed properly? I just want to know how he’s doing”, Harry said.

He stepped closer to the gate. Narcissa Malfoy eyed him quietly as if she wondered whether to give him information or not. Harry remembered how he had lain on the ground of the Forbidden Forrest and how she had felt his heartbeat, turning around and lying into Voldemort’s face that he was dead. Maybe she seemed to remember the same, as her face softened a bit. She raised her wand and the gates opened. “Draco said it was your idea to use Phoenix tears”, she said when he stepped through the gates. Harry nodded. He felt awkward walking up to the house together with Draco’s mother. She led him into the living room, it hadn’t change since Harry had been here and just like last time Draco was brought into the room. Draco had refused to identify Harry, but this time there was just his mother. Bellatrix was dead and his father was in Azkaban. Draco looked pale and was still way too skinny when he entered the room. His mother was supporting him and helped him onto a chair. She didn’t leave the room however, eyeing Harry’s wand nervously. “I’m not going to hex Draco”, Harry said. Draco stared at Harry, he hadn’t said a word yet. Draco seemed as if he didn’t feel very well, Harry wasn’t sure whether it was because he was at home or because of his wound. Draco barely nodded at his mother and she left slowly. Harry stepped closer and then stopped. He didn’t know what to say or how to behave. “What do you want to talk about?” Draco asked. “Potter”.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts. “Can we go back to ‘Harry’ and ‘Draco’?” he asked. Draco looked almost pained. He shot a furtive look towards the door where his mother had disappeared and Harry quickly approached him. “How is your wound?” Harry asked quietly. Draco lifted his left arm and rolled his sleeve up. There was a faint white scar left behind. Harry reached out his hand and Draco pulled back when he touched the scar slightly. “Does it still hurt?” Harry asked. Draco looked bewildered. “No”, he murmured. “Forget about it, about what happened at the hospital”, Draco said quickly. “But I can’t”, Harry said. “You – you have to”, Draco pressed out. “It was a mistake. You need to go”, Draco hissed. Harry felt a pang in his chest at those words. Sure, he had not been confident about the incident as well, but he had not expected to be pushed away so harshly.  
“Leave!” Draco said louder. “Draco”, Harry said. “Can you sleep at night by now? I know you can’t”, Harry said. “Come with me”, he asked him quietly.  
“Where to?” Draco asked furrowing his eyebrows.  
“I – don’t have a place yet, for now it’s just the Leaky Cauldron, but we could go anywhere. Can you really stay here? I ran away from the Weasleys… I can’t stay with anyone else. They don’t understand”, Harry urged. “But I do?” Draco asked. “Yes”, Harry said. “I can’t leave and I certainly won’t go with you”, Draco stayed stubborn.

The resentment and hate was gone between them, but it was filled with something that seemed to scare Draco too much. Harry turned away, he had been empty. He had had no goal except for Draco. He had been so fixed on him that he once more had known what to do: go and find him. Now that he had found him, he realized that it had been stupid. Draco was right, they should forget about it. It had just been one kiss.  
“Well then –“, Harry said and looked at him shortly. “I better leave”. Draco’s eyes followed him until the door closed behind him, Harry hurried the path down through the gates and flung the Cloak over himself. His sides were burning and he didn’t know where he was, he had just ran ahead. A place popped into his head and he Disapparated.

 

*

 

“Harry, are you sure you don’t want to-?” Hermione started. “Absolutely not”, Harry interrupted her impatiently. Hermione sighed. “You haven’t told Ron, did you?” Harry asked accepting the glass of butterbeer his house elf brought them. Hermione beamed brightly at the elf and thanked her.  
“I am glad that you’re paying her!” Hermione said. Harry nodded absently.

Half a year had passed since his last visit at Malfoy Manor. Hermione had started her last school year and was visiting Harry over Easter. Harry had bought a house in Godric’s Hollow the same day he had returned from Malfoy Manor and stayed there ever since. It had been a rushed decision, made out of the desperate need to do something and to have a place for himself. Ron had visited him a few times and Mrs Weasley popped in every now and then, she was only satisfied when Harry found a nice house elf that took care of Harry. Harry couldn't bear to see Kreacher, he reminded him too much of their stay at Grimmauld Place. The house elf made sure that Harry was eating properly and taking a calming potion whenever he was tortured by nightmares or anxiety that seemed to linger somewhere in the shadows and crept up to him every now and then.

When Hermione had visited him during Christmas, she had spotted his unfinished letter to Draco and Harry had ended up telling her about the kiss. It had been an awkward moment, but Hermione didn’t seem to be overall surprised. “It’s not as if you two hadn’t been obsessing over each other for 6 years”, she had just said. But Harry made her promise not to tell Ron, however she kept trying to convince him to finally send Draco a letter. “You cannot let this go so easily! Get a grip, Harry! I thought you wanted to start your Auror training next month, how do you expect to get through this when you are lacking in concentration”, Hermione started and sounded as if she was scolding him about procrastinating a homework. ”Hermione, it’s not that easy – and I don’t know yet about the Auror training”, Harry said. “Why not? You both have feelings for each other”, Hermione said. Harry felt his face heating up. “Don’t – Don’t say it like that. Draco didn’t really seem to have – uh, feelings”, Harry said quickly. Hermione raised her eyebrows. “You’re acting really stupid, you know that”, Hermione said.  
Harry quickly changed the topic to her final exams and let her talk about a complex transfiguration charm, while his thoughts drifted off to Draco. When Hermione said goodbye that evening taking off to the Burrow, Harry had made his decision. He didn’t tell Hermione however that he send Draco a letter. It was just an address that he tied to his owl, which he had bought recently. He didn’t want to be remember of Hedwig, so he had gotten an Eagle Owl. They had told him its name was Bubo, so he simply had continued calling him Bubo. It was Hermione who pulled her usual didactic face telling him that bubo was just a scientific name for the owl, but the owl and Harry had gotten used to the name, so he didn’t want to change it. He had no idea what to call it anyways.

It was rather cold for April, it had rained the entire day and Harry had stayed in. He usually went for a little walk to visit his parents’ grave and their old house, but he hadn’t been able to get himself to do so for a couple of days now. He didn’t want to think too much about the letter he had sent to Draco the week before, it had stayed unanswered. Harry had changed into his pyjamas, sipping on a hot chocolate while flipping through an Auror training pamphlet – once more thinking he should better not become an Auror and simply cancel the program – when Penny, his house elf, stuck her round face into his bed room. “There is a visitor for you, master”, she squeaked.

Harry frowned and got up, grabbing his wand. “Who is it?” he asked. The elf looked scared. “He didn’t want to say a name, sir. I am sorry. He had your address on a piece of parchment”, she said. Harry hurried downstairs quickly and flung the front door open. He was there. Draco Malfoy’s pointed face was pale as always, but had gotten a bit rounder, he seemed healthier. Or maybe it was just the thick black coat he was wrapped into, a glossy fur hat on his white-blond hair. He held up the parchment. “I got your – uh – letter”, he said.

“Come in”, Harry said, still surprised that he had actually came. “A Slytherin in Godric’s Hollow”, Draco murmured. He turned on the spot, eyeing Harry’s living room. “Penny”, Harry called. The Elf appeared and took Draco’s cloak. “Do you want something to drink?” Harry asked insecure. It was an odd situation, his mind seemed to be blank. Draco shook his head. Harry cleared his throat.  
“Uh, thanks Penny. We will be upstairs and we don’t want to be disturbed”, he said. “Yes, master”, Penny said with her squeaky voice and bowed deeply. Harry led Draco upstairs into his bedroom.  
“I didn’t think you’d come”, Harry said as he closed the door. ”Me neither”, Draco murmured. There was a short moment of silence, Harry looked up and met Draco’s grey eyes looking closely at him as if he was waiting for something. His stomach did a flip and he made a few steps towards Draco, but changed his mind in the last second. “Sit down”, Harry murmured, but there was just the bed to sit down. “What have you been up to lately?” Harry asked.

Draco didn’t look at him, but let his eyes wander through the room. “School”, Draco murmured. “What? You went back to Hogwarts?” Harry asked. Draco made an indefinite movement.  
“I thought you would return to Hogwarts”, he said. Harry shook his head. “I applied for a special training program, I’ll be getting some extra lessons to compensate for my missing last year”, Harry said. Draco’s eyes found the pamphlet. “Auror?” he murmured. “Yeah”, Harry said. “You can’t go back to Hogwarts but you go back hunting dark wizards?” Draco asked, a fine undertone of his old sneering was audible. “I don’t know either”, Harry murmured. “But maybe – there are still Dark Wizards out there”.

Draco flinched. “Are you going to go after me as well?” he asked then. Harry stared at him, then he cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I already got you. You’re here in my bedroom, sitting on my bed”, Harry said. Draco’s eyebrows lifted. “Think you could win against me, Potter?” he asked. “Easy, Malfoy”, Harry said and lifted his chin. “Even without a wand”, he added. “Without a wand”, Draco repeated laughing. “How could you-?” he started, but Harry had already pressed him down into the mattress. He sat on his legs to keep Draco down. “Got you”, he said.

They stared at each other, surprised to find themselves so close together once more. Neither of them averted their eyes and neither of them dared to break the silence. It was so quiet, they could hear Penny downstairs preparing dinner. Harry felt a hand on the front of his shirt, Harry hadn’t expected being pulled into a kiss and lost his balance. It was a messy kiss, hands shaking, little gasps in between, getting tangled in bed sheets. When they finally broke the kiss both of them were rather breathless. They shared a sheepish smile. “I won”, Draco said as he grabbed a handful of Harry’s tousled shirt. “Really”, Harry said amused. The tips of their noses touching, he felt Draco’s quick breath over his mouth. Harry placed his hand on Draco’s cool cheek and slowly Draco lowered his face to press a careful kiss onto Harry’s lips.

Harry couldn’t remember how he had persuaded Draco to stay for the night, but he stayed. It was different to not be alone in the darkness, there was a heartbeat next to him and warm hands that clung to his because they shared the same fear. Harry knew that being together would not cure them off their nightmares, but if he woke up at night, his heart racing and drenched in sweat only Draco would understand. The night was short and they woke each other up many times, exchanged comforting whispers and held onto each other until the snakelike face that haunted them was pushed back into the shadowy back of their minds. In the early morning, Draco had drifted into sleep and Harry watched the rising sun paint the pale face like a canvas until his eyes grew heavy and he, too, finally, fell asleep.

He was woken up the next day by the smell of toast and fresh coffee and with a sharp: “Potter!”  
Harry sat up, groping for his glasses. “Breakfast’s ready”, Draco said twirling Harry’s glasses between his fingers. “Good morning to you, too”, Harry sighed, snatching the glasses away from him. A faint grin played around the corners of Draco’s mouth. “What’s wrong?” Harry asked. “Nothing”, Draco said quickly and the smile disappeared. They didn’t speak about the restless night or the kiss. The smell of fresh coffee and toast lingering in the air and made Harry’s stomach grumbled. He rolled out the bed and stretched. “You’ll stay for breakfast?”, Harry asked. Draco hummed. They both got up and went downstairs where Penny greeted them with a nice breakfast. They ate in silence but caught each other gazing at the other every now and then. Penny had already collected the dishes when they were still sitting at the table, two mugs of coffee and tea between them.

“Stay with me”, Harry said simply into the silence. Draco looked surprised. “I’ll be going back to Hogwarts in a few days”, he murmured. Harry’s hand wandered over the table and the tips of their fingers touched. “Come back when you graduated”, Harry said quietly. “Maybe you should come back”, Draco muttered. “What?” Harry asked. “To Hogwarts”, Draco said. Harry felt his lips twitching into an almost smile at the thought of going back to Hogwarts, but he had made his decision long ago. He would not return, he simply could not go back to his beloved castle. It had been his home for six years but it had been destroyed and defiled by the Battle, it had turned into a graveyard. He could not sit in the Great Hall without seeing Fred, Remus or Tonks lying there. His hands clenched the mug at the thought of them, he felt sick and tired. The mug burst in his fist and the broken pieces flew across the table and fell to the floor.

“Harry!” Draco called. Harry came back to his senses when he felt a strange itch in his hands and saw that a shard had cut into his hand. Draco had his wand out before Penny had hurried over to clean up the shards. He cleaned the wound and looked around for Penny. “Do you have Essence of Dittany?” he asked. Penny nodded and Draco summoned it.  
“How could I sit there where so many died?” Harry asked quietly while Draco dribbled the essence onto Harry’s wound. Draco put away his wand and looked away.  
“How does one live with that?” Harry asked. Draco finally turned to him, he looked angry. "You can’t save everyone!” he shouted. Harry stared at him taken aback and then remembered the reason why Draco had been tied to the hospital bed. “Do you think they all died for you?” Draco called. “No! But I –“, Harry started.

Draco got up and flicked his wand to summon his coat. “Draco!” Harry followed him to the front door, but he didn’t know what to say so he just grabbed his arm. “Let go of me!” Draco demanded sharply. “No”. Draco pulled his arm back with so much force that Harry stumbled and crashed sideways into the wall of the small entrance hall. The sound of the door falling shut was echoed loud in Harry’s head and reminded him of another event. He had called Remus a coward and he had left Grimmauld Place in a hurry. He had spoken without thinking. Draco had done and seen things far worse than Harry had and Draco had not wanted to live with that burden at all. It was only when Penny called for him in worry that he realised that he was still standing in the entrance hall and he was crying.

“Master?” Harry moped his eyes with his sleeve. “I have to go”, he said sharply. He threw on his coat and Disapparated. He staggered when he appeared in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor. He spotted someone pacing in the garden. Draco’s face was reddened and he seemed to be muttering to himself. He flinched when Harry called out to him. He frowned and his face took a sour look much alike his old self. “Draco, please. Let me in!” Harry called. He was about to give up and leave because Draco didn’t move and just looked at him with a grim face, but then unexpected the gates swung open. Harry looked up to the large house. “Is your mother here?” he asked. “Oh you want to see my mother?” Draco asked pointed.

“No, of course not. I wanted to know whether we – we are alone”, Harry muttered. The grim expression disappeared and Draco turned away. “Mother is – away”, Draco said quietly. Harry didn’t ask, he could guess that she was visiting her husband in prison. “Draco, I’m sorry about what I said before”, Harry simply said. Draco shrugged. Harry didn’t know what to say anymore and so they stood there in silence. The only sound the cool spring wind that rustled the trees surrounding Malfoy Manor.

Harry closed his eyes waiting for something to happen. When he opened his eyes again, Draco was still standing a few steps away from him, he was looking at Harry. Years ago, Harry would have thought that it was disdain and arrogance but he saw the pain behind the mask. “How does one live with that? What do you know about that? You are the celebrated hero, the Chosen One or whatever they call you now… What do you know going back to Hogwarts as someone like me? I will always be a – Death Eater in everyone’s eyes”, Draco said. “Not in my eyes”, Harry said. Draco’s eyes widened shortly in surprise. Harry closed the distance between them. “I don’t want to be whatever they call me either. I am Harry, just Harry”, he said. Draco gave him an odd look.

“What?”, Harry asked. “I just remembered –“, Draco murmured. “Before I knew who you were, we met at Diagon Alley, we were both buying our cloaks at Madam Malkin’s”, he said.  
Harry blinked. “I – yeah, right”, he said surprised as he remembered their very first encounter, he had almost forgotten about. He had not liked Draco very much back then. “You were just another boy going to Hogwarts then”, Draco said. Harry looked puzzled. “And then as soon as I knew, I tried to become your friend”, Draco said. “Not in the most pleasant way, though”, Harry interrupted him. Draco frowned. “But now –“, he said. “Are you trying it again?”, Harry asked. Draco curled his lips and grimaced. “No, that wasn’t where I was trying to go, Potter”, he said through clenched teeth. Harry frowned and for a second both looked confused at each other; they had stepped up closer to one another without realising while talking. Draco leaned forward ever so slightly and Harry caught him breathing a bit too fast as he inched closer, still caught up in the whirl of guilt and confusion. The kiss was chaste and so different from the ones before. There was no wild heart racing or fiery intensity, but a strange calmness. It was nothing like a Calming Potion that stripped him off his feelings, it was peaceful. When they broke the kiss, they stayed close in a half embrace, their faces almost touching.

“What about that?” Harry whispered. “Huh?” Draco hummed.  
Harry lifted his hand to touch Draco’s face, cold skin on cold skin. “Is that the sort of thing you wanted to go for?” Harry asked.  
“Do you have to ruin the moment by asking that?” Draco muttered. Harry almost laughed. “I just wanted to be sure, you know”, Harry said quietly, looking serious again. “Because I would want to”. Draco looked at Harry. “You would want to do what?” Draco asked. Harry leaned in closer again. “Kissing you – being with you”, he said. Draco let out a little groan.  
“Is something wrong with that?” Harry asked. Their lips were almost touching by now.

“No, nothing at all”, Draco murmured and closed the remaining distance.


End file.
